


A Slow Process

by Saigoat



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Past Torture, Recovery, Therapy, dubcon, grocery store trips, kind of, ramsay is in jail...maybe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:41:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27869325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saigoat/pseuds/Saigoat
Summary: Theon recover's in a post Ramsay world. Re learning things is hard but worth a try. Sometimes are harder than others.
Relationships: Ramsay Bolton/Theon Greyjoy
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	A Slow Process

**Author's Note:**

> A quick drabble.

Fluorescent lights always gave him a headache, the buzzing, the harsh glare, it was one of the many aspects of the grocery store Theon hated. Nevermind the droves of people who usually clogged the scant aisles and stared when you passed as quickly as humanly possible; Their judgemental stares boring under his skin and churning his stomach. Shopping was one of the things his therapist said would create a sense of normalcy, but going without Yara bullying her way through passersby...was far scarier. He was a Greyjoy...at least that is what they kept pounding into his head...so he had to do this on his own. For fuck’s sake he should be able to buy some food for himself, it would be easy.

Wary eyes scanned every face, looking for any hint of danger. Ramsay was in holding...awaiting trial...away from him. His Maste- kidnapper was behind bars and not stalking him in the local grocer, but Theon’s nerves burned with fear nonetheless. At any moment the Bolton could appear and whisk him away back to the rundown cabin lost in the middle of the woods; Scoop him up right out of the blue and leave forever, never to be found by civilization again. Perhaps Ramsay would be lenient in his punishment, it was doubtful. The patrons of the store watched him gaze blankly at the crackers lining the shelves, shaking his head in a vague attempt to focus again, Theon rushed past, eager to get what he needed so he could get the hell out of there. Yara said he needed to eat more than toast, so this trip was laden with food that required cooking...but he only knew how to cook things Master...liked. His shoulders hunched and his breathing quickened. Calm down. Calm down. Yara always knew when he was Reek, she could tell. Yara said that creature didn’t exist anymore. Yara said Yara said Yara said. Well, Theon was getting tired of his sibling’s sayings.

The scrawl dictated on the torn notebook page slanted and squished, a shaky hand trying to learn to write again. His list was hardly that, it was more of a middle school student’s poor attempt at guessing what nutritions a person required to survive for longer than a month. He read it slowly, making sure to enunciate each word to fully understand it, every stumble brought his sister’s repetitive complaints to the front of his mind. Reading isn’t that hard you’re an adult. Just look at the writing and figure it out. Soup. That was easy enough, with a quick searching glance he scurried over to the aisle claiming to have the item he searched for. Vegetable soup...top shelf...ugh. Even on his tippy toes, still delicate with pain, he couldn’t manage to graze the cans lining the shelves. Just out of reach, for a brief moment, the lithe man contemplated climbing up to grab it. People were looking at him anyway. 

“Oh, here let me get that for you.”

Wavy dark hair, broad in the shoulders but fit, jaw prominent. If it weren’t for the earnest smile and dark green eyes, Theon would have collapsed to the tile right then and there. The stranger handed him a can, gentle in his motion and an easy laugh passing his lips. A trembling hand took it gingerly, looking the other man square in the face; Looking for a hint of malice. What if was some sick setup? 

“They make these aisles too tall, hah.” Idle chatter the man filled the silence with.

Thank you. Was what he wished he could muster, but he wanted to thank him. Memories of Ramsay dragging him to an alleyway to force him to show his gratitude for allowing him to buy a box of cereal, right there behind a dumpster. Maybe the stranger would do the same, he could see it now, a heavy hand pulling his frail wrist, urging him to follow. An abandoned back street easily accessed from the storefront. Pushing him against the rough wall, whispering dirty things in his ears, horrible promises. Theon’s remaining fingers scrabbling for purchase on hard brick when the man pulled his britches down and reached searching fingers up to prep him. If he was kind, spit would ease the way, teasing the rim and stretching him open. His teeth grazing over his neck, biting and teasing, a grin plastered against his scarred skin while he pushed each knuckle into his entrance.

After he’d prepared Theon, he would push into him. The stranger’s girth lazily sheathing itself within him, filling him to the brim. Perhaps he’d wait, wait for the other to adjust to his size, wait to slowly start thrusting into his hole. The pace easy-going and caring, The Greyjoy would reach his lanky arms back to open up himself for the man, making it easier to deepen each stroke, his face pressed against the stoney wall. Groaning and the slap of skin echoing in the night air. Maybe the stranger prolonged the encounter, hoping someone would come upon them, a threat of being caught hanging over their heads. The butterflies in his stomach would flutter at each muttering of filth, his ruined member twitching and leaking with every prodding of the special spot inside. That was Master’s favorite spot, it wrenched a moan, a whimper, a plead from Theon’s mouth every time. It didn’t matter how he felt, he’d tell the stranger exactly how it made him shiver; His rough hands gliding over marred skin, tweaking his nipple, rubbing his gnarled scar like a clit.

In the fantasy, the man would flip him over. Pinning him to the wall with his legs wrapped around his strong hips; holding him up with his strength alone. Theon would wind his arms around his neck and hold him close while he pounded each thrust into his innards. The warped pet would cry naughty things into the nape of his assaulter’s neck, begging for him to feel good, and all other matter of things his former Master had taught him to say in the heat of “lovemaking”. 

“Harder!” He’d imagine he would say. Begging the stranger to hurt him further, to remind him of his loving Lord.

After pumping Theon full of cum, the man would drop him to the concrete and zip up his pants. Ridiculing the poor mutt, he would leave him to clean himself up in the alley. The shame bleeding through every fiber of his person, Reek would pull up his pants and rub himself to completion in the dank streetway. Thankful that he was able to pleasure himself without much pushback from his tormentor.

“Are you okay?” The back of the dark-haired stranger’s hand came up to feel his forehead. “You look flushed.”

Theon flinched so hard he could feel his neck pop; Being jarred back to reality was not the most painful thing he’d endured but always shocked him anyhow.

“Sorry Mast- mister, uh...thanks.” As quickly as he could manage, Theon scrambled off to leave, though less than half his list was completed, he bailed anyway. 

Heart beating viciously within his ribcage, Theon shoved the awful thoughts to the back of his mind. Hoping desperately that the visions of violation would fade with each step away from the building. Half an hour spent sitting in his car made him twice as anxious, and his frozen chicken patties thaw.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! tumblr @saigoat


End file.
